A Helping Hand
by LunaBee13
Summary: It's sixth year and Draco is stressed over completing the Dark Lord's task. With his father in prison and the weight of the Wizarding world on his shoulders, Draco's grades turn southward. With his mother threatening punishment, Draco turns to our favourite bookworm, Hermione Granger. Can she help Draco and save the Wizarding community? Or will Draco push away her helping hand?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi everyone! This is my first fanfiction ever, so I hope you enjoy it! :) For those wondering, yes, this is my updated version of the story I posted a few weeks ago :) Please leave a review, it's motivation!**

~Chapter One~

Draco hurried down the dim corridor, pausing to hide behind a suit of armor as a group of his friends passed. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Of all people to ask for help... He sighed and continued walking.

When he reached the library, he dashed inside, looking about for anyone who might have seen him. There was no one.

She was sitting in the back of the library, bushy brown hair hiding her face as she bent over a scroll of parchment, scribbling furiously. He scowled almost immediately. Why did he have to need GRANGER'S help? Draco very nearly turned around just thinking about it.

But, he thought, the Dark Lord would praise him most highly when his task was done, and he could not complete it without Granger. Sucking in a breath, he casually sauntered over to her.

"Hello, Granger," he said in a falsely nonchalant voice.

"Malfoy," Hermione replied without looking up. Rage contorted Draco's admittedly handsome features. She wouldn't even look at him; she dared to ignore his presence. But, really, what more could be expected of a Mudblood?

"I need you to do something for me," Draco said quickly. Hermione's head snapped up to glare at him.

"And what could I possibly do for YOU, Malfoy?" she spat. "Honestly, asking favours when you clearly loathe me..."

"I-I don't loathe you," Draco stammered. He willed himself not to vomit. Not loathing a Mudblood? Oh, Merlin. His aunt Bellatrix would cringe at the sheer insanity of that statement. But he had to convince the brainy Gryffindor that he was being honest and sincere, so that she would help him. Hermione quirked a questioning eyebrow.

"What is it then?" She stared at him thoughtfully.

"Well," Draco began, "I'm rather busy at the moment with - things -" Hermione gave him a look but he ignored it, "and I wondered whether you - you could-" Ugh. GRANGER. He was asking GRANGER for help.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Whetheryoucouldhelpmewithmys tudies," he said in a single breath, avoiding her gaze with determination. Hermione's mouth formed a small "o" of surprise. Malfoy was asking HER for help?

"W-what?" she sputtered in shock. He was going to have to say it again. AGAIN.

"Listen, Granger," he sneered, "I have a lot going on right now, and my mother will not be pleased if my grades suffer much more." Hermione looked at him like he was insane. He felt like that was perfectly reasonable. He was, after all, asking a Mudblood for assistance.

"You want me... to help you with classes?" Hermione asked rather bluntly. Draco wanted to slap a hand to his forehead. This was what you got when you needed tutoring from Granger.

"Yes, Granger, that's what I just said. For being the brightest witch of your age, you're-" Hermione interrupted.

"What makes you think that insulting me will make me want to help you?" Draco sighed. Maybe he should just give up.

"Look, if you're going to be this difficult I'll just-"

"No," Hermione said at once, "I'll do it."

"Er, uh-"

"On one condition," she added smugly.

Oh, no. No, no, NO. He was not going to do it, whatever it was. Granger was not going to give him orders, she was not going to make demands. He was a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake.

Didn't she realize that it'd been hard enough to even ASK her for help? And now she was making conditions? No, Draco didn't think so. He wanted to Crucio that stupid smile right off of her face.

"Absolutely not," the blonde boy declared.

"Fine," Hermione said simply. She resumed writing.

"W-what?" Draco faltered. He hadn't been expecting that. Granger was supposed to accept his response and dutifully complete his assignments for him anyway; that was how it worked. Intimidation and then results.

"I said fine," Hermione repeated, smirking. Draco's face arranged itself into it's trademark sneer. But there was something else there. Panic. Fear.

"You have to!" Draco yelled. He was in awe, and it showed. He did not want to have to beg her. But he was desperate; he had a task to complete and a family to please.

"On one condition," Hermione said again, calmly. Draco couldn't... his family... his mother...

"What is it?" He asked. Hermione smiled triumphantly.

"You can never insult me or any of my friends again." Draco's stomach lurched uncomfortably. He didn't exactly know why he suddenly felt ill, but felt it might have something to do with the fact that he had insulted her so often that the absence of his rude remarks was her one condition.

And then anger bubbled up again, white hot. He needed help, not someone to command him about like a house-elf. Surely he couldn't go through with this.

"Granger..." Draco started hesitantly. Thinking about his mother's high expectations and the Dark Lord's still higher ones, he looked about again to check for eavesdroppers, then muttered, "you've got yourself a deal."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Here it is, chapter two! I hope you like it, please leave a review! (Whoa, that rhymed. That was unintentional. O.o)**

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. Any characters, settings, or plot points that you recognize belong to Jo Rowling. 

~Chapter Two~

Well, he was in for it now.

What would his mother say if she heard about this? Narcissa wanted her son to get good grades, naturally, but if he needed Granger to help him achieve them? That Mudblood, teach a Malfoy? Draco was disgusted.

"Well, that's settled then," Hermione said brightly. "Which subjects?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked.

"Which classes do you need help in?" Hermione rephrased. Draco pinked.

"Oh. Um..." He was beginning to think that this had been a terrible idea. "I guess all of them." Hermione could not hide her smirk. Malfoy was bad at something.

"Think it's funny, do you?" Draco demanded angrily. His reputation would be in shambles if this kept up.

"N-no," Hermione assured him. "Of course not." But inside, a giggle escaped.

"Good. Now, Granger, just do the work I give you and then return it to me when you're finished, got it?" Hermione looked scandalized.

"You asked for help, not for me to do it for you!" she practically screamed.

"Listen, Granger, I-"

"No, Malfoy, YOU listen!" Hermione shrieked. "We will meet here every Wednesday evening after dinner, and I will go over your assignments WITH you." Draco was furious.

"I already told you, I have things to do!" His grey eyes flashed dangerously. He wasn't sure if he could spare every Wednesday evening and even if he could, he certainly didn't want to spend it in the library with Granger.

"Take it or leave it." Hermione looked back down at her essay and continued to work. It was absolutely infuriating.

"Fine," Draco agreed grudgingly. He turned away and mumbled, "Stupid Mudblood." He stalked from the library tensely. Hermione smiled in her victory. Malfoy was listening to her, AND she got to do extra homework. Life just didn't get much better.

Draco hurried back to the Slytherin common room, muttering to himself. At least now that his studies were out of the way, he could focus on the task the Dark Lord had set him.

"Hey, Draco," Goyle called from a high-backed green chair by the fireplace.

"Hullo, Goyle," Draco responded distractedly.

"Alright, mate? You look like something's bothering you."

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Malfoy replied curtly. He dashed up the dormitory stairs and to his bed. Flopping down on it, he let his thoughts overwhelm him.

He was going to have to see Granger every week. He was going to have to sit through her lectures and hear her criticisms. Oh, Merlin it was unfair.

Then again, now that his mother was off his back about classes, he could focus on how to carry out the Dark Lord's plan. Draco had yet to think of a way to get the Death Eaters into the school to hold everyone off while he... Draco sat up, his stomach doing a backflip. He still couldn't think about it...

He pounded his fist into his mattress. He had to stop being such a baby. Voldemort was counting on him. His father, in Azkaban, being tormented by the dementors. His mother, terrified, yet obeying all of the Dark Lord's wishes. It was a great honour. Aunt Bellatrix had told him so...

Draco sighed heavily in frustration. Why him? Why couldn't Crabbe or Goyle's dad have been sent to Azkaban? Why did he, Draco, have to ki-... murd-... get rid of Dumbledore?

There was a knock at the dormitory door. Draco opened it to find Blaise standing there.

"Er, hello, Blaise," Draco said, somewhat uncomfortably.

"Hey, Draco," Blaise responded, then strode in and sat on his own unkempt bed, pulling his schoolbag towards him.

"What are you up to?" Draco said to break the awkward silence.

"Oh, homework," Blaise said with a grimace. Draco made the same face; homework. Grades. Granger. Ugh.

He sighed and went back downstairs in search of his friends.

Hermione walked back to Gryffindor Tower, shoving her now completed essay into her bag. It was late, and she wasn't sure whether or not it was past curfew. She turned a corner to find herself in the same corridor as Peeves.

He was zooming around in circles, blowing raspberries and rattling suits of armor. She ducked into a little hidden alcove and waited for him to pass. Then she continued on, quickening her pace.

Hermione reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, said the password, and ducked through the portrait hole into the common room. Harry and Ron were still awake.

"Hermione! Where've you been?" Ron asked, a worried look on his face. Hermione blushed slightly; she's liked the redhead since her second year.

"In the library, of course." She tossed her bag aside as she flopped into a squashy armchair near the fireplace, exausted.

"Oh," Ron said sheepishly. Hermione could've sworn she saw Harry grin.

"So, what took you so long?" Harry asked curiously. Hermione debated whether or not to tell them.

"Well..." She decided she would. "Malfoy came and found me." The tips of Ron's ears turned bright red.

"What did he do to you? I'll kill him, that little..."

"Ron!" Hermione chided. "He didn't - he didn't DO anything. He - he asked if I would help him with his studies." Harry and Ron burst out laughing.

"Ha!" Harry smirked. "Malfoy's dumb as a sack of dragon dung, wait until I tell everyone THAT-"

"Oh no you won't, Harry! Because he promised me something, and I won't have you two screwing it up!" The laughter died down at this, and Ron paled.

"W - what did he promise you?" he asked.

"I made him swear to never call insult any of us again. You, or Harry, or Neville, or me. None of us, or our friends." Hermione said proudly. Clearly she thought this was the best thing she could've asked for; no more Malfoy giving them hell.

"You should've asked what he's been doing when he's not on the map!" Harry said excitedly, his eyes lighting up. Hermione shot him a look and the light dimmed again.

"Give it a rest, mate," Ron told him in an undertone. Hermione nervously fiddled with her hair. Malfoy HAD told her he was busy with things... and he'd never specified...

"You all right, Hermione?" Harry asked, concerned. She managed a weak smile.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just tired. 'Night." She took her things upstairs and crawled into bed.

As Hermione lay awake later, she wondered: was it possible that Draco actually WAS up to something? And if so, now that she was helping him... was she involved?


End file.
